


Saturday is for yard work

by livinginthequestion



Series: SPN Prompts [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Yard Work, and there are waffles, i dunno it's messy and fluffy, leaf blowing, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-01 00:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20455823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livinginthequestion/pseuds/livinginthequestion
Summary: prompt from teegan on the twitter: cop - I went to a call where two neighbors were blowing leaves at each other with leaf blowers.





	Saturday is for yard work

“Dammit, Sammy, he’s out there again! What is it, 6 am?” 

“Dean, it’s almost 8. Come on.” Sam’s voice is coming from the hallway, fading as he walks down the stairs. 

“It’s friggin’ Saturday! The weekend! The first day working people get to sleep in! Leave the poor leaves alone!” Dean moans and buries his face in his pillow. 

“I know, I know. I guess he just likes to get up early and get at it, y’know?” Dean can hear rattling-around noises coming from the kitchen. Ugh, if he’s making coffee that means Dean has to get up, no matter how early it is. 

“So we all have to rise and shine?? I swear to god, I’m gonna go over there and adjust his attitude for him.” 

He can practically hear Sam rolling his eyes. “Uh huh. Why don’t you come downstairs and have breakfast first? Coffee’s ready. Waffles in a few minutes!” 

Dean sighs and sits up, swinging his feet down to the floor and scrubbing his hands through his hair. He squints at the bedside clock: 7:45. Great. So much for the ‘maybe i’ll get up by lunchtime and relax in my sweats for awhile’ plan. 

“Dean, I just poured batter into the waffle iron! Get your ass up!” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!” Dean pads down the hall to the bathroom, and then down the stairs. By the time he gets there the lovely smell - an intoxicating blend of warm waffles, frying bacon and fresh coffee - wipes the thoughts of neighborly revenge from his mind. 

Those thoughts immediately spring back to his frontal lobe when he steps outside an hour later. Shopping bags dropped on the ground, grocery run forgotten; vengeance is his only thought. The driveway and the walkway next to it are decorated with dry leaves and small branches, right up to the grass strip between their house and the leaf-blowing neighbor’s. The grass is bright green, meticulously clipped and trimmed, completely devoid of leaves, as is the neighbor's driveway and the yard beyond. 

Dean stands rock-still for a long minute, fists clenched and teeth grinding. Seems like every Saturday morning all summer long this bozo is up early doing…noisy neighbor things. And now he’s got the brass balls to blow his leaves onto Dean’s driveway?? _That is fucking it!_ Dean stomps back into the house, throwing off his good jacket and banging through the door to the garage. A few minutes later the garage door squeaks and begins its slow rise; as soon as it’s up high enough, Dean emerges with his own leaf blower firmly clasped in one hand and a look of thunder on his face. 

Sam comes out behind him, careful not to get too close. 

“I thought you were going shop- Oh. Uh-oh.” 

“Yeah. This won’t take long, I promise you.” Dean glares back at his brother, who decides discretion is the better part of valor and retreats back into the kitchen. With a jerk, Dean fires up the leaf blower and gets to work. 

Truth be told, it isn’t that big a job. There aren’t enough leaves to completely cover the pavement; in less than ten minutes the driveway and sidewalk are clear again. It’s just the principle of the thing, which is why all the leaves end up back on the neighbor’s driveway. Dean’s shutting down the blower and admiring his handiwork when the sound of someone grunting in surprise gets his attention. He looks up to see his neighbor, holding a pushbroom and staring wide-eyed at his driveway. The man turns his gaze at Dean, causing a momentary pause in the free flow of air. It’s apparently escaped Dean’s notice before this that his neighbor is a singularly attractive man: dark hair, muscular arms and thighs, bright blue eyes. Dean gulps audibly, and hastily adopts a pissed-off expression to cover. 

“What the - What are you doing?” the man gasps. What was his name again? Dean gropes through his memory and finally comes up with it. 

“Cleaning my driveway, Novak. What were _you_ doing running that machine this early? again??” 

“It’s after nine, for god’s sake! You can’t possibly expect everybody to -” 

“What I _expect_ is that you’d show some common courtesy! If you’re gonna get up and make noise at oh-dark-thirty the least you can do is clean up after yourself! What the hell were you thinking, dumping all that on my driveway??” 

Novak glares fiercely back at him, his face slightly pink and his eyes, his very blue, rivetingly blue eyes blazing. Dean gulps again. 

“If you’ll observe, Winchester, if you’ll stop hyperventilating for one second and take a good look you’ll notice I’m carrying a broom. What do you suppose I was planning to do with that??” 

Dean makes a disgusted noise. “How about you just keep your leaves on your driveway in the first place, you jerk??” 

Novak’s face darkens as he starts spluttering. “Why you…” and slams the broom to the ground as he spins on his heel. He all but sprints back into his garage. Dean smirks, resisting the urge to swagger a little, and is just congratulating himself on his victory when he hears the sound of a leaf blower firing up. He glances down at his, confused for a moment, and looks up in time to behold his furious neighbor moving fast, blasting the leaves off his driveway and directing them toward Dean’s now pristine driveway, and — and toward _him_, flying straight at Dean’s face. 

Dean falls back, yelling inarticulately and scrambling to start his own machine. It catches immediately, thank god, and Dean swings it upward, sending leaves flying in a graceful arc toward Novak’s face. 

“Stop it, you jackass! Lay off!” Dean swings the blower back again, spitting leaf litter out of his mouth and snarling in frustration. 

“_You_ stop, you complete idiot!” Novak does a neat half-turn and comes around from the other side, growling and spitting as he gets a faceful of leaves again. He twists, sending another load in Dean’s direction. 

“Dean! What the hell, man? Stop it!” Sam’s voice carries from an upstairs window, but Dean’s way too busy to spare a glance. He stumbles to one knee, grunting as he heaves himself back upright and raises his leaf blower again. He catches a couple of brief glimpses of other people, neighbors on their front steps and in their yards, watching open-mouthed. He hears his own front door open and Sam come pounding down the steps. 

“Dean, for god’s sake!” 

“Shut up, Sammy, I got him on the run!” Dean gasps, beginning to feel winded but he is not about to give up. 

“Oh really??” His enemy’s voice sneers, and Dean twists his head to see another load of dead leaves shooting at his face. He curses, tries to duck, nearly goes down again. He staggers, regaining his balance and swinging around again to fire back. 

For several minutes they keep at it, stumbling over the edges of the grass and their own feet, and occasionally over the handle of the broom, still lying in Novak’s driveway. They might have gone on for the rest of the day, if their battle hadn’t been interrupted by the blast of a police siren. They both freeze in position, then turn to see the cruiser parked half-off the street between their driveways. The cop is standing beside her car, one foot still inside, smiling calmly. 

“Gentlemen, now that I have your attention, someone please tell me what the ever-loving hell is going on here?” 

Dean blinks. “Uh, hello, officer, uh…” 

She taps the insignia on her shirt front. “Sergeant, if you don’t mind. I don’t normally attend gardening events, but we got several calls from your neighbors that two guys who didn’t appear to be drunk were nevertheless attempting to kill each other with leaf blowers, so I thought I’d stop by.” She glances back and forth between them, looking as though she’s trying very hard not to laugh hysterically. 

They’re quite a sight. Sweaty, dirty, clothing in disarray, bits of dead leaves and branches stuck everywhere. Both red in the face and panting, and beginning to deflate in the face of her amusement and the disapproving stares of the neighborhood at large. Sam comes down the porch steps and passes between them, shaking his head and smiling ruefully at the sergeant. 

“Hey Jody.” 

“Sam! What a nice surprise. This your brother?” The cop, whose name apparently is Jody, looks Dean over critically. 

“Yeah, I’m afraid so. Sorry for the trouble.” 

“Not at all, this is a real first for me.” She chuckles and winks at Sam. 

Dean stares in open astonishment. “Sam, you know her? You’re friends with a cop?? Did you call the cops on me??” 

Sam snorts. “No, you idiot. Probably one of our long-suffering neighbors did.” Sam gestures toward their audience, most of them shaking their heads and turning back into their houses. “Thanks for that, by the way. They already think we’re troublemakers.” 

Jody laughs. “Well, they’re not wrong, not today anyway. So what’s up, fellas? Is there a need here for police services? Any complaints?” 

Dean makes a face, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “Well, um, I - ” He glances over at his adversary, not quite making eye contact. 

Novak looks just as shamefaced. “I don’t think so, sergeant. I’m very sorry for the disturbance. We just had a minor, um, difference of opinion.” 

“About leaves?” Jody stares him down, expression serious but her eyes twinkling.

Novak blushes. “N-well, yes, I suppose, but it was stupid. It won’t happen again, I promise.” He looks over at Dean, straight into his eyes. 

Dean huffs and sucks in a deep breath, taken aback. He wants to be pissed, dammit, but the way the guy is looking at him… “Um, yeah, we’re fine. I’ll be good, I swear.” 

Jody beams at them both. “Excellent news, because I’m about to go off shift and I would hate to have to take you boys in. Paperwork, ugh. Just keep the noise down and your weapons stowed, okay?” She winks, nods to Sam, and swings back into her car. 

A moment of silence as she drives away, and then Sam claps his hands together. “Hey, I was thinking, it’s a nice day, and I’m probably gonna be hungry in a little while. I’ve got some steaks thawing and some fresh corn and some other goodies, cold beer included. How about you guys clean up and then Cas, you could come over and grill with us? maybe about 1 or 2ish?” 

_Cas?_ “Cas?” Dean squeaks out. How is it that Sam knows all these people’s names?? 

“Yes, Dean, that’s his name.” Sam makes a _you are so weird_ face at him, and turns back to Cas. “So what do you say?” 

Cas is smiling and nodding. “That sounds wonderful, Sam, thank you. That is, if it’s okay with Dean?” His eyes are warm as he holds out his hand toward Dean. 

Dean lets out a long breath, feeling the last of the tension from the fight roll out of his shoulders. He reaches out and shakes Cas’ hand. “Yeah, that’d be great, Cas.” He can’t keep the smile off his face, and Cas laughs. 

“Okay. I definitely will shower first.” He looks Dean over and wrinkles his nose, and Dean chuckles. 

“Good idea. See you when we’re clean.” He winks, and Cas nods slowly, looking him over again in a very different way. 

“Oh yes. Yes, we will.” Cas holds his gaze for a long moment. “See you soon.” He gives Dean a slow smile and moves back toward his own house. Dean, who's pretty sure he has the same smile on his face, turns around to head for the shower - and gets a look at the smirk on Sam's face. 

"Shut up. Shouldn't you be shucking corn or something?" Dean can feel his ears getting warm, and elbows Sam as he passes. He climbs the steps and heads for the bathroom, still smiling. Maybe being up early on Saturday isn't so bad after all.


End file.
